The Cruellest Lies
by howdy
Summary: The cruellest lies are often told in silence' - Robert Stevenson. Silence. Ginny Weasley is starting to wonder how to release herself from the lies she has entrapt herself in. Dean, Ron, Hermione all deserve the truth, but all she can offer is lies.


"_The cruellest lies are often told in silence."_

- Robert Stevenson

Silence.

They all think I am too quiet. They say, 'come on Ginny, say something,' and I laugh and murmur something inaudible.

It's not like they need me to talk, anyway. They deduce their own answers from my silence, and I let them.

I let them, even though I know their answers are lies.

Lies, lies, lies.

And I know it's nasty of me, to keep these lies going. It's cruel, in a way. But it's necessary. They can't know the truth.

Like when my boyfriend Dean gives me a hug, squeezes me, lowers his head to mine and breathes into my ear, 'I love you.' I duck my head, smile shyly, and then press a kiss to his lips.

I don't love him, but he doesn't know that.

He needs me, I think. He likes having a girlfriend as – exciting – as me. My name is slightly more known than his. I am slightly better-looking than him, or at least Hermione says so.

Hermione, my brother's girlfriend, the only one who has noticed something might not be completely right.

Dean, he needs me, because I give him something. I'm someone for him to lean on. He likes that his day could be terrible, everything could go wrong, and he can come to me afterwards and I can make it better. He always asks, do I mind, and I continue to set about making him feel better. He takes his answer from my silence, and closes his eyes, relieved.

Lies.

Hermione keeps trying to corner me. She's tried to tell my brother Ron that there is something wrong with me. Ron, awkwardly, came over and said, 'Gin, do you need to talk?' He gave me two minutes, which I filled with silence and glares. He took the message: everything's fine, why would I want to talk to you? He went back to Hermione and said, 'she didn't say anything was wrong. She's okay.'

Silence can tell all my lies for me, I think.

Hermione won't buy my silence, though. She keeps asking me, am I losing weight? Is there something wrong? I laugh at her, and refuse to answer her constant questions. She thinks I will one day start to talk, and say that, no, I don't eat enough, I don't feel enough, I don't talk enough.

I'm slowly disappearing into silence, and nobody has noticed.

Hermione's given up on me, I think. Or I've completely fooled her. She came over today, to ask me how I was, and before she made it, I gave a big smile and waved. She didn't even ask. The smile said it all, the wave. The silence. I Am Okay. There Is Nothing Wrong.

Now even Hermione is fooled.

Dean has started to notice that I don't say 'I love you.' He begs me, and I continue to kiss him, as though that is a proper answer. I guess he thinks I'm shy or something, because he kisses me back, obviously thinking that I do love him.

God, this silence is eating me up.

Ron has started to tell me off at breakfast, lunch, dinner. 'Ginny, eat some more, please,' he says, and I push the food around. He says, 'don't you feel well?' and I lower my eyes to my plate. He takes that as a no, and offers me to walk me to the infirmary. I shake my head. Nothing's wrong, okay?

Lies.

I saw Hermione crying to Ron the other day. She thinks there is something seriously wrong with me. They told the professors, who forced me into a meeting with my head of house. There, I sat, as she asked, 'Is there anything you would like to discuss?' I smiled politely. I have so much I need to say, but now is not the place.

People need me to be strong. I am Ginny. I can handle anything.

Except eating, and relationships, and words.

I guess no one really knows how much the silence occupies my mind. Every time I feel Dean's presence, like a lover's breath on my ear, the silence builds up in my head, pressing against my eardrums, threatening to make my mind explode. He deserves the truth. I am not fooling myself. Staying with him, pretending to love him, is not benefiting him in any way. It is just cruel.

Nobody deserves that.

When Ron and Hermione ask me how I am, ask why I'm not eating, instead of the faces I pull and the reassuring gestures I give, all I can think of is the silence, filled with un-spilled words, sentences and phrases and clichés that would explain everything to them, that would make everything okay.

My silence, though, is my safety net. It has built this web of lies for me, and I can't turn my back on that now. I can't open my mouth and shatter these illusions I have allowed to build.

I just can't do that, yet.

It seems funny, in a way, that my favourite place is the top of the tower, late at night. Standing there, with the moon glowing and the grounds sweating in its silvery light, the silence doesn't seem so bad. There are no lies, here. Just me and the moon and the millions of stars, the remnants of memories and truths, and the absence of the horrible feeling silence often brings.

My silence is not cruel here. It does not tell my lies for me. Instead, it releases me, helps me see the truth.

And the truth is, I have been silent for far too long.

Dean deserves to know. Ron deserves to know. Hermione deserves to know.

The head of house who sat, relieved, as I convinced her nothing was wrong, she deserves to know what a liar I am. How cruel I am. And so it's time I open my mouth, finally.

Gripping the cement wall that circles the tower lookout, barely reaching my waist, I stare outwards towards the tops of the trees and the far-off moon. My shadow falls, oddly, down the face of the castle, and I see now what I truly am: thin, small, disappeared. A liar.

Everyone finally deserves the truth.

I climb onto the wall, careful, the air alive with crickets and flies and, far away, night animals in the forest. I had never noticed the loud here before, only the light relief, so different to the dank silence I often wallow in.

Turning around, slowly, carefully, I face the dark room. My body blocks some of the light, but around me the moon slivers in, lighting it just enough for me to see the door start to open, see three bodies move in quietly.

Dean, Ron, Hermione. How they knew I was here, I will never know. Why they were looking for me – well, it is irrelevant now. Hermione spots me first, and rushes over, eyes already glittering with tears.

"Ginny, why?" she moans, quietly. Beside her, Ron looks up at me, a horrified expression on his face unable to properly hide the fear in his eyes.

Dean, his face white, stands beside the two, staring at me. I can almost hear his thoughts: not this girl, please no, I love her.

I stare at the three of them, the centre of attention. I guess in the end, what I wanted was the chance to speak. The silence was too heavy for me, I needed a break. And they deserved to be free of my lies, my constant lying, lying, lying, through my constant silence. I was so cruel. But here was my chance to make it up to them.

Behind me, the moon drifts behind a cloud, dimming the room even more. I can no longer see their faces. The air is muffled only with Hermione's small, sad sobs now.

I close my eyes, praying, then open them again, and face the three dark figures in front of me.

This is my chance. I can finally free myself of my lies.

"You all deserve to know the truth," I say, my voice surprisingly wobbly. It has not been used for proper, meaningful words in so long. I feel tears run along my face, pooling in the hollows of my cheeks. I wonder how I look to the three: my emaciated body fluttering on the wall. I regain my composure, and try again, to speak the truth, to free them from my silence, finally.

"And the truth is, I'm sorry."

I turn and fall.

* * *

**AN: **Reviews are appreciated. I didn't originally intend for this to be a Harry Potter story, but it begged me to turn it into one. I also didn't intend for Ginny to fall. Does she die? That is up to you.

You might have noticed a complete absense of Harry. I'm not quite sure when this is set. It is Ginny's point of view, obviously, maybe she sees Ron and Hermione as a couple, long before they are. Which would make this about the Order of the Phoenix. Regardless, it is up to you.

Poor Ginny, I nearly cried writing this, and I never cry. I ... embodied how she felt. It is an awful feeling; I hope none of you ever feel that complete loneliness and emptiness.

Anyway, enough. I hope you enjoyed :) And I'm sorry the Author's Note is almost longer than the story, lol.

Review please, constructive criticism is muchly appreciated :)

Peace.


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